


Look At Me

by Godspeed_Cowboy



Category: Naruto
Genre: Ambiguous/Open Ending, Angst, BAMF Haruno Sakura, BUT AT A COST, Betrayal, Blood, Blood and Gore, Blood and Injury, Dark, Gen, Haruno Sakura Has Issues, Haruno Sakura-centric, I have several planned fics with this trope and Sakura, I really like the trope of usually nice people snapping and going absolutely fucking feral, Implied Violence, Injury, Missions Gone Wrong, Short, Short One Shot, Suffering, Trauma, taking Sakura's "Look At My Back" speech and makin it this, talkin ape shit mad hog wild with pent up emotions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-08
Updated: 2020-10-08
Packaged: 2021-03-08 02:55:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,014
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26888476
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Godspeed_Cowboy/pseuds/Godspeed_Cowboy
Summary: The aftermath of a mission gone wrong in Rain Country.
Relationships: None
Comments: 5
Kudos: 133





	Look At Me

**Author's Note:**

> Songs for this fic:   
> Thelema - Øfdream  
> Shadow Lady - Portwave
> 
> I like the slowed versions of them, personally!

Above her, there is rain, light and sprinkling, and the clouds above her slowly become darker as the wind howls, her hair slapping her face.

Beneath her feet, stone, broken and cracked in some places, a slab of it, a porch to the broken building behind her.

In front of her, stairs that lead down, down, down into mud and puddles and a ripped up lawn that was once the epitome of decor, now nothing but a mess.

Behind her, two open doors that lead to darkness. From behind the door, an arm is visible. In the darkness, unidentable bodies litter the floor sporadically, and there are some on the walls or hanging from the ceiling. She does not turn around to look at it, at what she did. She does not want to look at it while the memories are still fresh in her head.

And upon her body, stained white underwear and blood all over. Gore coats her arms and legs, and there’s a spatter of something thick on her belly, and her hair has knots in it, clots that slowly loosen with the rain dripping into them. Around her neck, marks from ropes. Any bare patch of skin was covered with a scar. She licks her lips, cracked and dry and bleeding.

Despite the weather, it is oddly silent, oddly calm.

Her green eyes, wide, look forward, out into the bare landscape, the foggy horizon.

In the distance, she sees the back up she called for.

They were an hour too late. 

She takes her first step down the stairs, walking away from the home filled with slaughter.

Slaughter she had done.

Each step is agonizing, her knees popping from standing in one position for too long, muscles aching from overuse and injury. She carries on, though, intent to meet them in the middle.

The rain comes down harder. She keeps walking at the same pace.

The mud squishes under her feet, between her toes, and it feels unpleasant, but she supposes that the luxury of pleasantry disappeared as soon as she made the first kill. Her other foot comes down to sit with it’s twin. She takes a moment, sitting still, before she starts to walk again over the ruins.

She knows the exact moment the backup sees her, when they start to run faster, perking up.

They meet in the middle, just as she’d planned it.

Both parties stop a few feet away from each other as they take in their appearances.

The backup consists of Shikamaru, Kiba and Akamaru, and Shizune.

All three stare at her with different emotions. Appal, disgust, surprise, horror, suspicion, bafflement. It’s a range, small, but a range nonetheless.

She looks at them with an even stare, unchanging from it’s blank, unbothered look.

Shizune steps forward, arms held out.

“ _Sakura_ . . .” she mutters, the corners of her mouth twisting down.

Sakura just blinks. She does not twitch or lean away from the older woman’s touch, but she also does not immediately sink into it how she usually would. 

Slowly, arms wrap around her waist. She should tell Shizune to let go unless she wants her uniform stained. But her mouth stays shut, heavy.

She takes a deep breath in from where her head rests upon the older woman’s shoulder as her arms come up to grab at the back of the green vest.

The smell of lavender and honey. So very different from the stench of death she was encased in hours before. Her exhale is shaky as her fingers curl tighter and tighter into the flak jacket.

The slightest of trembles racks her body as Shizune holds her. Barely noticeable to the others. Akamaru whines, inching behind Kiba, who reaches down to pet his companion’s head, keeping an eye on her the whole time.

Shizune pulls back, and Sakura lets her, the older woman grabbing her shoulders to really look at her. The rain comes down harder, faster.

“Sakura, what happened?” she asks.

It takes her a moment to answer, briefly distracted by the strands of pinks and red hair that get stuck on her eyelids and lashes that she does nothing about.

“I completed the mission when you failed to show up,” she says, and her voice is raspy, deep. 

In the background, Shikamaru winces.

Shizune tilts her head, “What happened during the mission, Sakura? Why did you call for us?”

With the twitch of her head, they suddenly lock eyes. Shizuna lets go, stumbling back out of instinct. Had she not caught herself, she would have grabbed a weapon, too.

Sakura’s eyes are not what they used to be. They are dark, clear, open, but they reveal too many things that nobody wants to see.

Bloody hands reach up to trace a bruised throat.

“They tried to kill me,” she says, louder, loud enough for the others to hear, “So I did what I had to.”

Shikamaru steps forward, “Where is your squad?”

Kiba follows, “What happened to them?”

Her head slowly turns to them and they regret asking, but it must be done. Protocol.

“Traitors get what they deserve,” is the only thing she says as she runs a hand through the mess on her arm, fingers catching on a stray scrap of flesh, one that isn’t hers.

They shudder, stepping back.

Shizune enters her vision again.

“Let’s go back home, ok? The Clean Up Crew will take care of this.”

The way she says it makes her sound eager to get away from the scene. Sakura takes no offence to it. The place radiates something wicked.

Shizune reaches into a bag on her hip, pulling out a thermal blanket to give to the girl, but a red hand on top of hers stops her.

“Don’t.”

Shizune listens, letting it go and closing the bag. She turns to the two boys and the canine.

“Let’s head back. Tsunade-sama will be expecting a report for this one.”

They take off fast, but Sakura leads the way, the fastest of them all, leaving them to stare at the mangled flesh of her back.


End file.
